His gut twisted with Tuck's words. They were heartfelt words – no shouting now, just pure earnestness. He could tell Tuck believed it. He wanted to believe it as well. But the words hit the white-painted walls of a six-by-nine prison cell, sharp and terrible in his memory, and made it no further.
Reason told him Scarlet was right. They'd come here scattered and piecemeal, their paths diverging for decades at a time. They'd all failed to be there for each other like they ought. Things were different now.
His back ached with the memory of being slammed against a metal grille, of a heavy fist pounding him in the kidney. His cut lip tasted bitter and coppery. No; things were different now.
Eddie's hand had dug claw-like into his arm as the doors had started to close—
But things were different now.
Stop feeling so goddamn sorry for yourself.
Will took a gulp from the glass Scarlet had handed him, barely even tasting it. "Fine," he said, his voice leaden. "Fine."